


Noble

by Amesysta



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 10:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25967956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amesysta/pseuds/Amesysta
Summary: After moving to Japan following her grandmother's death, Circe Drowe finds herself swept up into becoming the Host Club's errand girl. With a fiery temper making her more enemies than friends, Circe finds herself at a loss when she starts to fall for the last person she expected.
Relationships: Hitachiin Hikaru & Original Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	Noble

Chapter 1

I am in possibly the most aggravating place in the whole school: The Library. Well, one of the many libraries, but each library is the same in terms of how much they annoy the crap out of me. A reasonable person would think that the library would be a place for studying, renting time on the computer, and checking out books. But here at Ouran, we don’t follow the standards of the rest of the world. No, here at Ouran Academy, School for the Rich and Famous, our libraries are prime spots for socialization. The noise emanating from the tables and shelves are loud enough to make three grown men deaf, possibly four. Okay, maybe that isn’t possible, but the libraries are way too loud to get any studying done. Packing my notebooks into my bag, I laugh under my breath at my momentary stupidity of thinking I could get any work done.

I don’t bother trying to be quiet while leaving and as I walk out the large heavy double doors, no one gives me as much as a glance. Typical. I transferred to Ouran a month ago, and after a few days of feeling like I was stuck under the microscope, everyone’s attention dissipated. To be completely honest, I don’t mind being ignored by the masses. The majority of the people at this school are uptight pompous freaks who would rather talk about their seven yachts than work on the group project they were assigned to. Yes, I’m still salty about that. Just do your half of the essay Akina, it’s really not that hard. Despite not being the studious type, I’ve been doing alright here at this school. It’s a miracle that I even go into Ouran. My father must have pulled quite a couple of strings, not to mention filling a couple of pockets, to get me admitted.

Slipping into the large and disgustingly garish restroom, I take a look into the mirror. Wow, do I look tired. I can’t tell if it’s my newly-dyed green hair that’s making my skin as grey as a ghost, or if it’s the three hours of sleep I got last night, but it’s not a pretty look. I quickly splash my face in hopes that the cool water will bring some life to my cheeks. Drying my face with the sleeve of this god-awful yellow dress, I keep looking at my reflection. Grandma would have never approved of it, I think, but perhaps that’s why I did it. I don’t know what made me go for green, but last night I woke up in a cold sweat with an urge that something, anything, needed to be changed. At three in the morning, I drove to the always-open corner mart, slapped down a five and a few ones, and managed to snag a new identity in a box. Strand by strand, I covered every inch of my old self. Goodbye brown hair, hello green.

Now that I’m looking at it in better lighting, I’m not sure how it looks. There’s no changing it now though. Not only was the dye permanent, but I don’t want to go back to looking like one of the hundreds of other clowns that walk around these halls in frilly yellow dresses. I want to look like the me before everything changed. Except with green hair. Isn’t it funny how change can bring a bit of normalcy?

A stall door opens and a girl comes out, giving me an odd look before preoccupying herself with her hand-washing. Great, someone knows that I stood in front of the mirror for a good few minutes doing absolutely nothing. There goes my pride.

I hike my book bag over my shoulder, rushing to get out of the restroom and the thick, uncomfortable air that formed inside. I must have rushed out too fast though, because only a few steps out the door someone slams into me. Hard.

“Hey! What the heck was that for?” I screech, trying to peel myself away from the sharp staircase edges. 

“It’s your fault! You came out of nowhere. Watch where you’re going next time!” 

I huff at the response and jump to grab my bag and its spilled contents, looking up at who bumped into me. Oh. Oh no. Out of all the people in this school, it just had to be Hikaru Hitachiin. God, this is going to be such a bother. I’ll probably have to deal with the school board, in addition to the wrath of his stupid friends. I know that I should be quiet and let him have the last word, but my level of tolerance today has been filled up. “Shove off, asshole,” I grumble, snatching up the last of my things and bolting out of there before his Fanclub could eat me alive. 

My house is only a couple of blocks away from the school, but I’m completely out of breath by the time I arrive. I ran here as an escape, but I’m not so sure it is. When I look up at this manor of a house, with its columns and stone-carved detailing, I don’t see home. Instead, I see a foreign place with people I hardly know that I’m supposed to call family. After a bit of hesitation, I manage to fill myself up with the courage to be able to handle the tension of when I step inside. A bell rings when I open the heavy oak doors, promptly followed by scampering footsteps of the maid. 

“Lady Circe! Welcome back home. Would you like me to take your bag? I have some tea brewing in the kitchen.”

I grimace at the honorifics and the overall feeling of being waited on. “Um, no, it’s okay. I’ll just be going to my room.” 

“I’ll bring the tea to your room then! Oh, and don’t forget that your father is wanting you to have a family dinner tonight!” She calls out, making sure her voice reaches me as I climb the grand staircase to the second floor. 

“Got it,” I mutter. I make a turn and walk down the long hallway to my room. As I open the door, I tap the golden plate on my door reading Circe Drowe three times- a habit that was passed on from Nana to me. Every time I do this, I feel my stomach drop a bit. It’s been a few months, but I still end up with tears in my eyes every time I think of my Nana. I shut the door behind me and sprawl myself out onto my bed. Normally I get out of this horrendous dress as soon as possible, but today was rough and all I want to do is lay in bed and watch some mind-numbing shows. On days like this, Nana would bake me some pumpkin pie or oatmeal cookies and talk my ear off about what outrageous thing Helena said during that week’s sewing circle. I pull my hand up to my face to stare at her old wedding band that I slipped on and never took off. I miss her. I sigh and hold the ring to my chest as close as possible. I miss Nana so much. Not a day goes by where I don’t think of her stupid rants or her itchy sweaters or her mouthwatering baked goods. Or her funeral. She was the one person I looked up to most. After all, she did raise me and it shows too. She was a spitfire of a woman, and I too have proven that I definitely can’t hold my temper. My temper seemed to grow even more when I moved to Japan. After my Nana passed, I had no one else to go to, or so I thought. My mom and dad gave me up when I was a child. They were estranged from the family and the only one who was willing to take me was my grandmother. I didn’t hear from my parents at all, but I didn’t need them. I had my grandmother. But when she was gone, I was left with no one to care for me. Instead of dropping me right into foster care, Social Services managed to find and contact my father, who said that he would take me. It took him sixteen years and a dead mother to decide he’d be a father again. I know I should be grateful, after all, I live in this beautiful house and attend a prestigious school, but all I want is to be back in America with my Nana in our old two-bedroom house surrounded by nature. 

After what feels like an hour of crying and feeling sorry for myself, I managed to get myself out of bed and dressed in more comfortable clothes. I start on my homework, which is just a couple of essays due in a week, and head downstairs right at seven for dinner with my father. 

The bags under my eyes are baggier than the pants of some dudes in my old high school. Thankfully I had just enough time to cover them up with a quick swipe of concealer before slipping out the door to dash to school. After the unbearably awkward and mostly-silent dinner, I spent most of the night studying to keep my mind busy. Now I sit in the back of my first class, Maths, doodling in my notebook. Honestly, there is never anything to do in this class. I miraculously was able to get ahead last night in my studies, so there’s nothing left for me to do other than try not to fall asleep. I pass the time by drawing in my notebook and I doubt the teacher neither notices nor cares, but that’s best for me.

I feel something whack the back of my head. I continue drawing. It’s probably those idiots from the baseball team playing tabletop football again. I don’t know why they bother with the game, because they suck at literally everything other than baseball. They probably bribed their way out of preschool- they are just that stupid.   
WACK

I snap my head around to give one of my signature glares to the baseball team, but to my surprise, they’re all staring up at the teacher, and for the first time in their lives, are paying attention. Either that, or they have finally learned to fall asleep with their eyes open. Either way, I applaud them.  
WACK

“I swear to God!” I yell, turning myself around the other way, finding myself face to face with Hikaru. A few people glance my way, but shrug off the outburst and go back to their studies. 

“You’re the girl that ran into me yesterday, right?” Hikaru stares at me, slightly squinting. Why does he care?

“Correction: You ran into me. And you care because…” I ask, raising an eyebrow along with my tone of voice.

“I haven’t seen you around here before. Are you new?”

I scoff, annoyance building up. “No, I’m not new,” I snap. “I’ve been here for a month, and I’ve sat in front of you the entire time!”

“Are you sure?”

“Nooo,” I say, drawing out my words to express my sarcasm. “I actually came here yesterday. Yeah, I transferred yesterday but have still managed to get grades for the first unit of testing, and am doing well in my classes. Unlike you. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get back to...not paying attention.” I whip around and try to go back to drawing. I press a bit too hard on the paper, and my led snaps. 

“Ouch,” I hear from behind. “Feisty.” He stays silent though, to my delight.

WHACK

“What?!” I growl, gripping my pencil so hard that my knuckles become white. Who the hell does he think he is? Twisting around, I stare at him with the darkest look I can. He squirms. “I’ll give you to the count of three to tell me what you need to say, or I’m going to get a seat change right here, right now. One...Two...Thre-”  
“Okay, okay, gosh!” He shifts through his backpack while talking. “Are you in a club? Because I’ve been watching you since you came to school today and no one has even acknowledged you at all.”

“Yes, pour salt into that wound, will you? Now, why do you care if I’m part of a club or not?” I smile with mocking sweetness. This isn’t really me. I’m not the type of person to be so crass right off the bad. But this kid irks me to no end, and I have no trouble trying to put him in his place.

His lips turn up into a mischievous smile. “You should come to the Host Club then. We’re looking for help.”

“No.”

He continues anyway. “According to the handbook, all new students have to join a club in the first month they come to school.”

“And why is this renown ‘Host Club’ trying to recruit me? And what would you even want me for?” I know for a fact that there are no female hosts, not like I could be one even if there were. 

Hikaru laughs bitterly. “Well...Kyoya has insisted on finding someone should help with cleanup after the club because we ‘break so many things’” He rolls his eyes and mocks the last few words. “Since you don’t seem to be of such high standard, I thought maybe you could do it.”

I audibly gasp, shocked at his words. I knew all of these people were high class and snooty, but I didn’t think I’d be called low standard to my face. Without saying anything, I whip back around and hunch low over my drawing. 

“Your silence is a yes, right?” He whispers to me.

“It’s a no!”

“You’ll get paid-”

“I don’t need the money.” 

I can see him out of my peripheral vision. He looks at my bag and pokes my cheek with his pen, which I swat at. It goes flying across the room and I pretend like I had nothing to do with it. He leans forward, smiling behind his fingers. He knows something.

“I can guarantee a peaceful place to study. So do we have an agreement?”

My mind flashes back to yesterday when I tried studying in the library. The only thing I got out of that was a headache. It would also mean that I wouldn’t have to spend as much time in the house. Being there always leaves me drained of energy. Hikaru also isn’t wrong...I do need to find a club. It completely slipped my mind that I needed to find one, and now I have the perfect offer in front of me. “Maybe,” I respond, biting my lips. A quiet place to study is literally like finding a needle in a haystack. I can’t say no to this offer, but I can’t say yes. Not directly anyway. How degrading would that be?  
I can practically hear him grin. “After school, Music Room 3.”


End file.
